


There

by fireweed15



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21818185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireweed15/pseuds/fireweed15
Summary: In the middle of the nights like this, sometimes this is all Steven wants.
Relationships: Peridot & Steven Universe, Peridot/Steven Universe
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	There

Peridot didn't take to sleep in the way that Lapis and Steven did. He'd never seen the appeal, despite the various attempts, and moreover, he preferred tinkering on his projects at night. There was something inherently calming about the stillness of the reconstructed barn, and about the sound of crickets and an episode of _Camp Pining Hearts_ in the background as he worked on improving a robonoid, or his tablet, or a piece of Crystal Gem tech.

At around two in the morning, the relative peace was broken—quite the feat, considering that Peridot that wearing headphones. He paused, brow furrowing as a low, pained whine cut through the episode's familiar dialogue. He paused the tablet, then pulled off the headphones to listen better.

It wasn't Lapis—she was generally a quiet sleeper, and when she did _hmm_ or sigh in her sleep, it was brief, higher pitched. Peridot set the robonoid he was working on back on the floor and shooed them off before peering over the edge of the loft at the only other occupant of the barn.

Steven had come by for a long weekend, and settled down in the hammock in the main floor of the barn for the night. It was him that was the source of the cries—pleas for mercy from an unseen and unknown assailant—and even from a distance, it was obvious his expression was pained. "Steven?" Peridot called down.

His voice didn't seem to help matters; if anything, it seemed to distress him more, as he started to toss and turn, making the hammock in which he'd bedded down for the night sway precariously. The creaks of the hammock were underscored by his pained moans.

Peridot clambered down the ladder and edged closer to the hammock. "Steven? You okay?"

He laid a hand on Steven's shoulder, causing him to jerk awake—and the hammock to unceremoniously dump him on the ground. He rolled over and sat up, one hand clutching his gem through his shirt, his forehead damp with cold sweat. He glanced around the barn, eyes wide, expression panicked, for several moments before his gaze settled on Peridot.

"Are you okay?" Peridot asked, laying a hand, a little warily, on Steven's arm.

He swallowed hard for several moments, seemingly trying to get his bearings—an effort that came up short. "I think I'm gonna puke…"

"What?" Peridot drew his hand back. Human verbal shorthand still escaped him, and he knew he'd heard the phrase before…

"'m gonna—" He retched before staggering to his feet and outside the barn. A moment or two later, Peridot could hear the unmistakable sound of someone being sick.

Oh. That's what he'd meant.

Feeling something in his chest twist with concern, Peridot flipped open the cooler Steven had brought for his perishable consumables and started sifting through the contents and melting ice until his hand wrapped around a can of Pepsi. He stepped out into the early summer night and approached Steven, kneeling double over on the grass, the worst of his sickness having apparently passed. "Here—" He crouched beside Steven and pressed the can into his limp hands.

"I don't want it," he said, pushing the can back to Peridot. "The carbonation'll just make me sick too. Is there water?"

Peridot returned to the cooler and replaced the Pepsi; after a moment he returned with a plastic water bottle.

This, Steven accepted; he took a drink and swished the water in his mouth before turning away and spitting it onto the grass. "Thanks," he mumbled.

After a moment of thought, Peridot scooted closer to him and wrapped his arms loosely around Steven's chest and shoulders.

Normally Steven was extremely receptive to physical displays of affection; now, he cried out as if the touch burned him and pushed Peridot away. "Don't—!" When his gaze fell on Peridot, his eyes were wide, his expression almost pained. "Don't touch me right now. Please."

"Is something wrong?" Peridot asked, leaning in closer as though he hadn't been scared witless by the outburst.

"Nightmare…" he mumbled, slowing hauling himself to his feet. "Just a nightmare."

"Do you wanna… I dunno, talk about it?" Peridot asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Emotional conversations had never been his forte—but this felt _important_ , too important to just let it slide.

He didn't reply at first, taking a deep drink from the water bottle as if stalling for time. When he finally swallowed, he didn't meet Peridot's gaze. "I keep seeing her…"

"Who?" Was Steven having dreams about his mother? Peridot thought back to Steven's admission the more he learned of his mother as Pink Diamond, the less he felt he knew her as a person.

"W-White Diamond," he admitted, the tremble in his voice barely perceptible, but there all the same. "When I have nightmares, it's always about… her. Ripping out my gem."

Against his better judgement, Peridot recoiled from him in undisguised horror. The idea was _terrifying_ —even in times of war, bodily removing one's gem like that was unforgivable.

If Steven was offended by Peridot's honest reaction, or if he even noticed it was unclear. "I feel everything all over again," he mumbled, clutching his gem through his shirt. "It's—it's like getting stabbed in the stomach and—and I see her standing over me and I’m bleeding out—" He paused to double over, curling almost protectively over his gem. "And she doesn’t care. She just keeps asking about Pink…"

"What can I do to help?" Peridot asked at length, his hands hovering a little nervously.

"I don’t know," Steven admitted. "I… I don’t want to be hugged—the… the way she grabbed me just…" He trailed off, curling in on himself again, as if he hoped that Peridot could fill in the gaps himself.

Peridot got a good sense of what he was saying. After a moment, he stood and went back to the barn. At length, he returned with Steven's blanket and a second bottle of water. The water he set within arm's reach of Steven; the blanket he took a moment to deliberately shake free of dust and grass before draping it over Steven's curled up form. Content in his work, Peridot sat beside him, extending a hand. "It's… there. If you want it," he murmured.

For a moment, he couldn't be sure Steven heard him. Finally, at length, he extended a hand from the cocoon of blankets and squeezed Peridot's fingers. "Thanks," he murmured.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone get this poor child a mug of cocoa, a warm blanket and some therapy


End file.
